


Nothing He Can’t Handle

by deathtouch



Series: Enemas and Overwatch [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Begging, Corporal Punishment, Crying, Dom/sub, Enemas, Glycerine Enema, M/M, Men Crying, Pain, Punishment, d/s dynamics, no fucking just punishment, punishment enema
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:59:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16971654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathtouch/pseuds/deathtouch
Summary: ☛ in which hanzo is punished"Back in my day, when soldiers disobeyed orders, they were punished." Jack’s voice was stern but not angry. "It was an effective system, one worth reinstating. From here on out, any disobedient agents will be dealt with accordingly, starting with you."





	Nothing He Can’t Handle

**Author's Note:**

> hi to anyone who likes enemas but doesn't know what overwatch is. you can still read this fic! prior knowledge isn't really necessary. hi to anyone who likes overwatch but has never read enema stuff before. have fun w this weird kink!
> 
> this was a prompt fill! my twitter pal requested mccree or s76 "bringing hanzo down a notch", "working on his problematic attitude" and "breaking his resolve" with not one but two punishment enemas "because he is always portrayed as so regal, arrogant and serious it would be really fun to humiliate and hurt him" and yknow what? that's exactly what i wrote (:
> 
> maximum shoutout to my incredible beta [subwaywolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf) who edited this in record time! without him i am nothing! i can't say enough about how much i appreciate everything he does for me. thank you, subway!

"Shimada," Jack called out to the archer in a gruff voice. "With me."   
  
Hanzo lifted his head, tilting his chin up in a lofty sort of way, like he was better than being called out to. He had a self-important presence; tall and proud in ways most subs weren't. 

He was the only agent who had made it through the mission unscathed. He looked damn near pristine; clothes unruffled, black hair tied neatly back, not even a sheen of sweat on his tattooed skin. If Jack hadn't seen him scaling buildings and firing arrows into the fray, he wouldn't have believed that Hanzo participated at all.  
  
Jack didn't wait to see if he was being followed or not, he simply walked off and expected Hanzo to be hot on his heels. It wasn't until he was out of the dropship hangar bay and halfway down the hall that he realized the presence he felt over his shoulder wasn't Hanzo at all.   
  
The sound of jingling spurs gave Jesse McCree away. He was sweet on Hanzo, acting as his dom while they were working together. There were no collars exchanged just yet, but it was clear as day that they were involved.  
  
"You gotta problem with Hanzo, boss?"   
  
Jack stopped short, turning to face Jesse. Time had made its mark on the both of them. Where Jack was silver-haired and littered with scars, Jesse was thicker and burlier with facial hair and a prosthetic arm he never had before. It was still easy to recognize the young cowboy underneath all that had happened to him, and the way he ended his question was unfailingly familiar.   
  
"You don't?" Jack challenged him.   
  
If they were being perfectly honest, they both knew Hanzo's demeanor rubbed people the wrong way. His arrogance was only curtailed by his self-loathing. He made it very clear he was both better, and infinitely worse, than everyone around him. Used to being a lone wolf, he was a loose cannon on missions. He hurt the team as much as he helped them.   
  
Today, after clearly losing their stronghold, Jack had called for a tactical retreat. There was nothing wrong with pulling back to regroup. Hanzo's stubborn unwillingness to give in and fall back left him alone in his sniper's nest, surrounded on all sides by enemies.   
  
Pharah and Mercy had to double back and clear a path for him to exit, and even then, he wanted to stay and hold his ground. In the end Jesse had to haul him out damn near by the scruff of his neck, dodging the blades and bullets of Talon assassins all the while. Thankfully, no one was injured and there were no casualties, save for Pharah's armor, but Hanzo had put the team in a hell of a situation and didn't even seem to care.   
  
"I'll talk to him," Jesse agreed.   
  
Jack shook his head. "No, he's going to have to deal with me."  
  
It was lucky that Jesse used to be an Overwatch agent; a soldier in the black ops division. He had been under the command of dominants before and didn't take offense or start posturing in response to Jack's aggression and orders. Another dom might get protective of their sub or insist on taking care of matters themselves. Jesse knew better than anyone that in military situations, subs answered to the commanding officer first and their personal dom second. He didn't look happy about it, but he nodded anyway.   
  
"If you're fixing to punish him, I'd like to be on-hand. I'm asking as a courtesy-"  
  
"Fine," Jack groused. He didn't care if Jesse wanted to stand around and watch. The only thing that mattered was setting Hanzo straight. "Bring him to me, and he better be compliant or so help me god, I'll punish you instead. Got that?"   
  
Jesse scowled but nodded.   
  
Jack went on his way then.   
  
The Watchpoint they were currently working out of was functioning fairly well, all things considered. At night, they chose to conserve energy by shutting off the lights in most of the base, but other than that it felt fully operational. Every once in a while, a shuddered room full of dust and blanketed objects reminded Jack that this place was in fact shut down.   
  
Since the Recall, more and more people were staying onsite, helping to clear rooms and repurpose old tech and resources. It was rare that he stumbled across anything with an abandoned feel anymore. He wasn't entirely surprised to find the old disciplinary office completely untouched. They hadn’t had any cause to use it until now. He had to have Athena unlock the doors for him. Inside, he found dim lighting and equipment that hadn't been used in years.  
  
The Watchpoint hadn't been looted by any means, but plenty of items went missing in the last days of operation for Overwatch. Instead of letting everything fall to disuse, agents took things they could use at home or in their everyday lives. It seemed like a handful of doms had gone through the disciplinary office and picked through the different forms of punishment. None of the canes, whips, or floggers were left. There were a few paddles, but even those had been rifled through and the least appealing remained. The posture collars were gone, most of the large insertions missing, and the ball gags that were left were dusty.   
  
Because he had been the head of Overwatch during its heyday, Jack never actually had to deal with disciplining any insubordinate submissive agents. He was too high up on the food chain, and he had too many other pressing obligations. Despite this, he knew what he was doing when it came to punishment. He knew precisely how to handle Hanzo and he set about readying things for when the sub arrived.   
  
It wasn't long before Athena patched through to him, indicating that she'd gotten a request to share his location. Jack granted her permission, knowing full well it was Jesse and Hanzo looking for him. They probably tried to find him by going to the offices or his sleeping quarters first before asking her. With Athena giving them directions, they arrived in the deserted disciplinary office soon after.  
  
The two of them had changed into casual clothing, a sharp contrast to Jack, who had shed his jacket but was still wearing his tactical pants and heavy boots. Hanzo looked sullen, following behind Jesse like he might cut and run at any second. Then again, running scared wasn't very dignified, and he would never lower himself like that.   
  
"Jeez," Jesse murmured, walking up to the saltire against the wall and touching it hesitantly. "I didn't realize we had a disciplinary office up and running."   
  
"We didn't, until now," Jack told him. "I made an exception."  
  
Hanzo tossed his long, black hair over his shoulder. "I’m exceptional?"   
  
It was like he was incapable of backing down. He always had to stand his ground or make a snide comment or raise his brow in a way that said more than words could. It was clear he didn't think he needed to be punished, and he was going to dig his heels in throughout the entire process.    
  
Jack wasn't going to stand around and trade barbs or witty one-liners with Hanzo. Although he hoped this punishment would help quell some of his haughty behavior, he ultimately didn't care how Hanzo acted in his down time. This wasn't his sub, it didn't matter to him. The only thing that mattered was correcting his behavior during missions. No more flying solo, no more ignoring orders, no more needlessly endangering teammates. Hanzo was going to learn to fall in line.  
  
"Back in my day, when soldiers disobeyed orders, they were punished." Jack’s voice was stern but not angry. "It was an effective system, one worth reinstating. From here on out, any disobedient agents will be dealt with accordingly, starting with you."   
  
Hanzo scoffed and looked to Jesse. Apparently, he was expecting Jesse to stand up for him here, or potentially disagree, but he was barking up the wrong tree. Jesse was ex-military, ex-Blackwatch. He was familiar with this system just like Jack was. He likely thought it was just as good an idea, though he was reluctant for his sub to be the reason for its reinstatement.   
  
"Hanzo, darlin'," Jesse wrapped an arm around Hanzo's waist, pulling him in to kiss at his cheek. Hanzo turned his head away at the last second, denying him. "I don't want to see you behind enemy lines, pinned down like that ever again. I know you were just doing what you thought was best, trying to hold the line, but you could have been hurt."   
  
"Unlikely," Hanzo disagreed, though he didn't have his usual confidence. Perhaps it was dawning on him how serious of a mistake he had made.  
  
"We all gotta follow the mission leader's orders," Jesse impressed upon him. "I can't just let this slide, baby. If Jack here wasn't punishing you, I would be, so you best go along with what he says."  
  
Hanzo seemed to realize he wasn't getting out of this one. He lifted his chin high, holding himself with unnecessary poise. "Very well," he said, though he didn't seem happy about it. "Do your worst."   
  
Oh, so it was a challenge, huh? Jack simply shook his head. He wasn't going to rise to the bait. He was going to punish Hanzo in the way he deserved, not in the worst way possible. Though in the midst of the punishment, Hanzo might not be able to tell the difference.   
  
"Clothes off," Jack ordered. "On the table."   
  
He gestured to a table he had taken out of storage for this exact purpose. It wasn't anything special really; a flat table with just enough room for someone to lie down on top of it. Its surface was cushioned over with leather upholstery, and the table's legs were made of sturdy metal. Jack had wiped it down earlier, but since it had been covered it was already free of dust and plenty clean.  
  
Hanzo disrobed, turning his back to Jack as he did it. He handed his clothes off to Jesse, not bothering to fold them. He wore his nudity like it was a diamond necklace or a fur coat, something luxurious that he was showing off to the two doms in the room. He made the simple table his throne, sitting proudly on its cushioned surface.   
  
"You know his safewords?" Jack asked, jerking his chin at Jesse.   
  
Jesse nodded. "Yessir."  
  
"Good. You're in charge of stopping the punishment if he's in too deep. But I don't want you going easy on him, McCree. We're not going to call it just because Hanzo's uncomfortable; it's not supposed to be pleasant."  
  
Jesse looked more concerned than Hanzo at this point, but he nodded nonetheless. "I understand."  
  
Earlier, amid searching through the left-over supplies, Jack had found a sealed crate full of enema equipment. He wasn't entirely surprised it had been passed over. Enemas had fallen out of fashion just about everywhere, from home use to the medical industry and even for punishing subs. It was a shame really, because punishment enemas were so very effective; something Hanzo was about to find out.   
  
He'd taken time to clean and prepare all the supplies - the clear plastic bag and hose, the large nozzle, and the retention plug. It was all sitting and waiting for him in the industrial sink along the back wall of the disciplinary office. He just had to finish readying the enema itself.   
  
Jack went to the sink and began filling a pitcher with warm water. He'd run the faucet for a while earlier to make sure the water was clear and safe to use. He peeled the plastic from a fresh, still-wrapped bar of glycerin soap and added that to the pitcher as it was filling up. The soap swirled, jetted by the running faucet. The water began bubbling with suds at once.   
  
Over the sounds of the water running, he could hear Jesse talking gently to Hanzo. "Don't be unreasonable, baby. I mean it. If you need to stop, I'll make sure Jack stops."   
  
Hanzo scoffed a little. "I can handle whatever he gives me."   
  
Jack heard Jesse sigh, and didn't blame him for the frustration. He had his hands full with Hanzo, that much was clear. "I know you can, but you don't have to be so stubborn about proving it that you get yourself hurt."   
  
Although the soap hadn't melted or dissolved entirely, the pitcher was soon full. Jack shut the sink off, fished out the bar of soap, set it aside, and then poured the sudsy liquid into the enema bag. The bag became heavy, sides bulging.   
  
The water within was still clear but with a slight white tint to it, a ring of soap bubbles around the top. The hose and nozzle were already attached to the bag, and he made sure to bleed out any air over the sink. When it was all said and done, the enema was ready - whether Hanzo was or not was another question.  
  
Jack made sure to grab lubricant, and he carried both the lube and the full enema bag over to the table where Jesse and Hanzo were. Jesse stared at the bag with confused curiosity. It was likely that he'd never had an enema in his life and didn't know the kind of prep subs went through when their doms wanted anal play.   
  
Hanzo caught Jesse staring and glanced over his shoulder. Unlike Jesse, he knew exactly what this was. His carefully crafted mask of indifference cracked for a second and concern crossed his face before he steeled himself again.  
  
"You," Jack thrust the enema bag into Jesse's hands. "Hold this, keep it high."   
  
Jesse took the bag and held it high.   
  
"You," Jack put a warm, wet hand on Hanzo's shoulder. His muscles were tight. He was nervous. "On your side. Pull your knee up to your chest."   
  
Jack expected defiance, but Hanzo went willingly. He stretched on arm out above his head, pillowing his cheek on his own bicep. He looked like a marble sculpture from the likes of Rodin or Bernini with his perfectly defined muscles and artful lounging. As instructed, he bent his knee, drawing it up to his chest. This left him completely exposed, but if he was self-conscious or uncomfortable about baring himself to Jack Morrison, it didn't show.  
  
Jack took up the nozzle and lubricated its length thoroughly. "Have you had an enema before?"  
  
"Yes," Hanzo told him plainly. No smart comments this time.  
  
"Good." With his fingers now slick, he brought them between Hanzo's parted cheeks, spreading lube over his hole. "No surprises, then. You'll take the whole bag and hold it until I'm satisfied you've been sufficiently punished."   
  
It shouldn't be very difficult for Hanzo to take the entire two quarts, especially if he'd done this before. He'd be painfully full afterwards, and the soap would sting, but that was why this was a punishment. Jack gestured for Jesse to step closer, because the hose was only so long. When he had enough slack, he lined the nozzle up appropriately and gave Hanzo a quick warning before thrusting it in.   
  
Hanzo started, body shifting minutely as if to get away from the intrusion, but he settled. The nozzle wasn't particularly thick or long, but it was stiff plastic and Jack made sure to bury it deep. The hose had been clamped off to stop any soapy water from leaking all over the floor. Now with the nozzle secure inside of Hanzo's body, Jack unclamped it.   
  
He took the bag from Jesse and held it high, forcing gravity to do much of the work here. Jack watched the waterline slowly sink a few centimeters lower and lower, suds clinging to the sides of the bag. Either the rush of water or bite of soap was a surprise to him because Hanzo gasped softly, sucking in air through his teeth.   
  
Jack gave the bag a good squeeze, encouraging its slow process of draining into Hanzo's body. The sub grit through the discomfort as the enema was administered. He shifted a few times, moving his leg to give his belly more room to bulge outward. There was a definite pinch between his eyebrows and his breathing had grown labored by the time half the bag had been emptied into him.   
  
Jack expected groans, pleas to slow or stop the flow, complaints of cramping... but Hanzo endured until the very last drop of soapy water entered him. His stomach was distended, a prominent bulge where flat abdominal muscles were before. Save for the pain in his expression, he seemed to be handling the enema fairly well. The real question now was if he could retain it or not.  
  
Although there was some appeal to seeing whether he could hold it all on his own, Jack had no intention of creating a mess in the disciplinary office, not after he'd just gotten most of it cleaned up. Instead, he retrieved the retention plug from the sink. It wasn't overly large, but it was big enough to keep the water inside.   
  
"Don't spill any," Jack warned before sliding the nozzle free.   
  
Hanzo impressed him, clenching tight.   
  
Jack lubricated the black silicone plug enough to ease its entry. Hanzo was wet with enema solution inside, and still slick from the nozzle's insertion. He didn't need much more prep than that. Jack lined the tip of the plug up with Hanzo's hole, pressing it snugly against the tight pucker.   
  
The delicate balance of staying tight enough to keep the water inside and loose enough to allow the plug's entry without any pain began. Jack was kind enough to go slow, easing the fat plug into Hanzo's body at a generous pace. After a few long, tenuous moments the plug slid home, swallowed up by Hanzo's hole.   
  
The sub made a grunting noise. Considering he was already quite full of water, the sudden addition of three inches of unyielding silicone probably didn't feel particularly nice.  
  
Jesse went to run his fingers through Hanzo's soft black hair immediately, soothing him. "There you go darlin', hard part's over," he said, all soft and sweet.   
  
Jack gave him a look. Hanzo was hardly hurting enough to need consolation right now. This was a punishment; he didn't need to be babied. They just had to wait for the soap to work. In a few minutes Hanzo would really be struggling. In the meantime, Jack took the enema equipment back over to the sink to clean everything thoroughly.   
  
Apparently, Jesse realized he was being too soft, because he set in lecturing his sub. "You gotta act right on missions from now on," he said, stroking Hanzo's hair. "Taking risks is one thing, but ignoring orders and causin' trouble's another. You're too good an archer for us to lose you over something dumb like you didn't want to fall back."   
  
Jack took the clean items and returned them to the storage container he'd found them in. There was more equipment inside; an array of bulbs, larger enema bags, all kinds of soaps, different sized nozzles, syringes, liquid glycerin, suppositories. Jack went through it all, organizing everything. This stuff would certainly come in handy if he ever needed to punish anyone else.   
  
He glanced thoughtfully over to the table where Hanzo was curled on his side, breathing sharply through his discomfort. Jesse was still murmuring to him, touching his hair. For maximum effect, Hanzo would need to retain the enema for at least ten more minutes. With nothing better to do save stand around and watch him suffer, Jack set to work washing and cleaning the rest of the supplies in the storage bin. He carried a handful of syringes with him to the sink, disassembling them and soaping up their different parts.   
  
He kept an eye on the time, making himself busy for the next ten minutes.    
  
Jack was still in the middle of cleaning the equipment when time was finally up. He shut off the faucet and dried his hands before making his way over to the table. Somewhere in the last fifteen minutes Jesse had pulled up a crate to sit on and he was still protectively petting his sub's head.  
  
There was a light sheen of sweat on Hanzo's body now. His fingers were dug into his shin where he was holding his leg, drawing it closer to his body as if he wanted to curl up and away from the pain. His eyes were closed tight, chest rising and falling in a way that was purposefully steady.  
  
"Had enough?" Jack asked him.  
  
Hanzo cracked an eye open, glaring at Jack through the sweep of his now sweat-damp bangs. He made a noise of derision. "Is that all you've got?" he asked darkly.   
  
Jack raised an eyebrow at him.   
  
Jesse frowned deep. "Baby, just apologize to the man so we can be done."   
  
Jack stayed calm and collected, intent on keeping his cool. He wasn't sure why Hanzo was pushing this. Whether he was trying to piss Jack off or prove himself was anyone's guess. Either way, it wasn't working. If he wanted more, Jack could certainly give him more.   
  
"If Hanzo's not satisfied with the punishment he's been given, I'd be more than willing to continue until he's happy."   
  
"Jack." Jesse sat up straight. "Is that really necessary?"   
  
"I don't know." Jack looked straight at Hanzo. "Is it?"   
  
Hanzo remained insolently defiant. He said nothing, breathing loud and steady in the quiet of the room.   
  
"I guess it is," Jack decided.    
  
He made quick work of grabbing the things he needed. He didn't want to give Hanzo time to back out, or Jesse time to step in. Instead of bothering with water at the sink, Jack retrieved the liquid glycerin from the crate. He hastily prepared another enema bag, a smaller one. With pure glycerin like this, he wouldn't need much. A few ounces of it would do the trick.   
  
When Jack approached with the second bag, Jesse opened up his mouth like he was going to say something, but one look from the old Strike-Commander had him shutting up. Jack warned Hanzo before carefully and quickly removing the plug stuffed up inside of him.   
  
Talented as he was, not even Hanzo could manage to keep from spilling. It wasn't very much, but a tiny rush of soapy enema solution escaped him. His hole was juicy wet with it, and it dripped down the cleft of his cheek to pool on the leather cushion. Jack set the glistening plug aside and lubed up the second enema nozzle.   
  
Hanzo's fingers that had been gripping at his shin were now a tight fist. He was breathing heavier. All the activity of plugs and nozzles going in and out of his hole made retention that much harder. He was really starting to struggle, and Jack was far from done with him.  
  
Jack gave Hanzo a moment to recover before inserting the other enema nozzle, pressing it in deep. "You're going to take this whole bag too," he told Hanzo, "and hold it until I say you're done."   
  
"Get on with it, then," Hanzo bit out, composure falling away to aggression.  
  
He was going to regret his eagerness.   
  
Jack unclamped the hose and set the glycerin flowing freely. It joined the warm water already inside of Hanzo, filling him to the brim. Jack held the bag low this time, not interested in hurrying this along by any means. There was less volume, so the bag would empty itself sooner than the first one had anyway.   
  
Hanzo might have thought he was getting more water, a larger amount to stretch his already bulging belly out further. He realized right away that that wasn't the case. He went rigid all over, sucking in a gasp. Jack could imagine the painful sting of glycerin burning through him, lighting his insides up with pain.   
  
It only took two minutes, if that, to administer the glycerin enema. In those two minutes Hanzo went from relatively composed to a complete mess. His resolve shattered like glass. First, unintentional noises escaped him, whines and whimpers caught in his throat as he struggled to breathe through the pain. Then came genuine, unabashed moans of misery.  
  
The muscles in his body that weren’t already taut grew stiff as he clenched up all over. His fists were curled up so tight his hands was shaking. He was damn near writhing, curling in on himself as if squirming might help distract him from the violent sting of glycerin.  
  
“Jesus, Jack,” Jesse watched on, face wrought with empathy. “What’re you doing to him?”  
  
“Nothing he can’t handle,” Jack said flatly, recalling Hanzo’s own words from earlier.  
  
Hanzo interrupted them. “I… I can’t hold it.”  
  
Well, that’s what they had a plug for. Sure, it would hurt to have that big black plug stuffed up in there, displacing the water inside, filling him even more. It would also help keep him from leaking all over and making a mess of himself.  
  
“If you ask nicely, I’ll exchange the nozzle for a plug,” Jack offered.  
  
Hanzo made a pathetic noise, burying his face in the crook of his arm. His stomach groaned as if in answer, gurgling painfully from all the water trapped inside and the liquid glycerin agitating his soft inner walls. He was either weighing his options or suffering too much to reply. A spasm passed through him, his body shuddering. He was cramping now, insides fighting against the cruel soap.  
  
“Please!” Hanzo cried out, words forced, voice dangerously low. He turned his face to the side, peeking out at Jack. He had tears in his big, brown eyes. “Please, please. The plug. I can’t hold it.”  
  
Jack would have liked to let him beg a while longer, but he decided to be nice instead. It was a precarious process exchanging the nozzle for the plug, taking one out and inserting the other.

Hanzo was already struggling to hold the enema. His trembling and writhing didn’t help matters. Jack figured it was best to be quick. The sooner he got the plug in, the better. He planted a hand on the small of Hanzo’s back, holding him steady as he made the switch.  
  
Hanzo cried out again as the nozzle was removed, but it was nothing compared to the yelp that escaped him when Jack thrust the fat wet plug in to replace the nozzle. Unlikely to leak with all that black silicone holding the enema in, Hanzo was free to move. He writhed and twisted and somehow ended up on his hands and knees. His inflated belly hung beneath him and he cradled it delicately in one arm. His other arm, the one holding him up, shook violently.  
  
He was sobbing now, the force of it shaking his shoulders and shuddering through him. Big tears fell from his eyes, dripping down onto the cushion. His intestines groaned again, spasming as they fought the invasion of glycerin irritating their sensitive lining.  
  
Jack stood and watched with his arms crossed, all too satisfied to see Hanzo finally learning his lesson.  
  
“Hanzo, darlin’,” Jesse tried to help console him, but petting Hanzo’s hair wasn’t doing much for him right about now. “Are you okay?”  
  
“It hurts,” Hanzo cried. He turned away from Jesse’s touch in shame. The strength of his arm gave out and he found himself with his face pressed to the table, knees holding him up just high enough that his swollen belly wasn’t smashed against the cushioned surface. Any pressure on it, and he might burst. “Please, it hurts.” He was sobbing as he spoke. “It hurts too much.”  
  
“Jack,” Jesse looked to him expectantly. “C’mon, now.”  
  
Jack checked his watch. Hanzo had even endured the additional glycerin for a full five minutes, but that was still longer than most subs managed. Without the plug, there was no way he would have made it this long.  
  
“What do you say, Hanzo. Have you learned your lesson?”  
  
Hanzo sniffled loudly and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, unprompted.  
  
“Sorry for what?” Jack asked him.  
  
“For-“ He stopped to shake and cry, clutching his distended belly tenderly. “For my disobedience. Please, _please_. I’m sorry.”  
  
Jack waited. In all honesty, he could let Hanzo expel the liquid at any time now. It was just that he had gone through so much effort. Preparing two different enemas, cleaning all the equipment, organizing the disciplinary office. It would be a shame to waste all that effort by letting Hanzo off easy.  
  
“I’m sorry for my behavior-” Hanzo’s words tapered off into hurt-sounding whimpers. He writhed, shifting as if every position was too painful to stay in for more than two seconds. His stomach growled, a low warning. He cried harder. It took him a while to gather himself enough to finish his sentence. “I- I’m sorry for my behavior during the mission.”  
  
“I think he’s had enough.” Jesse stood up, all stern and serious now.  
  
“Please, I’m sorry,” Hanzo agreed, nodding as best he could. “I can’t do it anymore. _I can’t_.”  
  
“Fine.” Jack waved a hand at them dismissively. “There’s a bathroom down the corridor.”  
  
“C’mon, baby. Let’s get that enema out of you.”  
  
Jesse went to help him off the table, but Hanzo couldn’t manage it. If he tried to stand now, he legs would go right out from under him. He was trembling too much, too weak from the pain. Jesse changed tactics and went to scoop Hanzo up in his arms instead. It was no easy feat considering how big and muscular he was, but Jesse’s strength was nothing to scoff at.  
  
Being moved was apparently torture for Hanzo who shook and cried in Jesse’s grasp. He buried his face in his dom’s neck, moaning low in his throat. Jesse carried him out of the office, and the sound of Hanzo begging and pleading for his agony to end dissipated down the hallway.  
  
Jack smirked to himself and went about cleaning up. He wiped down the table Hanzo had been laying on and as he worked, he realized he could hear the poor sub’s sobbing through the walls as he expelled the enema. He just shook his head and carried on working. He’d hold the image of Hanzo curled in on himself, whimpering and crying for a good long time.  
  
When he was finished sanitizing what needed to be sanitized and putting away the supplies that needed to be put away, Jack dried his hands and left. He stepped out into the hall, closing the doors to the disciplinary office behind him. At the same time, Hanzo and Jesse rounded the corner.  
  
Hanzo was walking gingerly, holding his stomach in his hands. It was flat now, free of the large enema that had left him bloated and swollen earlier. Apparently, it was still tender, though. He sniffled and swallowed, looking up at Jack with red-rimmed eyes. There was no condescending confidence to him now, no arrogant tilting of his chin. Just a subtle, submissive presence.  
  
“Go on,” Jesse nudged him.  
  
“I apologize again for my actions,” Hanzo said, voice rough and watery with all the crying and carrying on he’d done. “Thank you for punishing me and helping to correct my behavior.”  
  
Jack reached out and squeezed his shoulder once, an act of amity. “You’re forgiven. Go on and find Angela and Fareeha so you can apologize to them, too.” They had risked their lives going back for Hanzo, after all.  
  
Hanzo nodded. He would.  
  
“And you,” Jack nodded to Jesse. He quickly tossed him the bottle of liquid glycerin. “If he gives you any more trouble, you take care of him.”  
  
Jesse looked down and the bottle and thumbed the label thoughtfully. “Sure thing, boss.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> send requests or prompts ➝ [here](https://curiouscat.me/deathtouch)  
> follow me on twitter ➝ [here](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)  
> thanks for reading ✩°｡⋆


End file.
